Reflection: Elderflower and the Light of Litha
Elderflower arrives at the height of Litha, when the days are long and generous, and the hedgerows carry that distinctive sweet, fragrant haze. Its season is fleeting, which makes it feel all the more precious. Every year, when the blooms begin to open, I’m reminded how deeply rooted elder is in both landscape and lore.
In Scottish folklore, the elder tree was believed to house an “Elder Mother,” a quiet guardian spirit who lived within the branches. To disturb the tree without asking permission was considered bad luck, and to gather its blossoms respectfully was to receive its blessing. Elder has long been associated with magic, protection and rebirth. Fairies were said to gather beneath its branches during Litha, and at Samhain its boughs were hung above doorways to keep harm away. Even its berries, rich in vitamin C, carried the reputation of being a protective remedy.
Working with elderflower always feels like an act of honouring that history. Whether steeped into cordial, transformed into champagne, or folded gently through a cake, it brings a brightness that tastes unmistakably of midsummer. Once preserved, it carries the memory of the season far beyond its brief appearance: a whisper of sunlight in the colder months ahead.
Elderflower pairs beautifully with other seasonal gifts (soft rhubarb, early strawberries, peaches at their warmest) and becomes something new each time. Recipes like my Rhubarb and Elderfloer Cake, Peach and Elderflower Pavlova, Custard. Creams with Cordial and Tiny Strawberry and Elderflower Tarts are all ways of keeping a little midsummer magic close.
But before any recipe, there is the quiet ritual of noticing: the moment you catch its scent on a warm breeze, the soft clusters of bloom against green, the way the light seems to pool around the tree. Elderflower reminds us that the Wheel is always turning, and that even the briefest seasons can offer the sweetest gifts.
